The Deceiver
by ladybrit
Summary: A city boy comes to Dodge, but he has big money on his mind.
1. Chapter 1

**The Deceiver. 8/11/2012**

Chapter 1

My name is Spence Bader – at least that will do for now. To be honest it has been so long since I used the name given to me at birth that I wouldn't recognize it any more.

Dodge city is just a name on the map to me, but right now it will serve my needs. I hear there is a new young Marshal there, keen on upholding the law and all that stuff. I'm not overly worried, I have yet to meet a lawman I couldn't take down.

I started working at the age of fourteen on a cattle ranch in Texas. A distant cousin of my father owned it and Pa figured it would be good for me to learn the business. I discovered then that hard work was not a rewarding way of life, and after a year or so took off in the company of some drifter who rode through.

From that old man I learned a lot of new skills. Like how to live off of the land if you had to – and how there were easier ways to be had in some of the cities and towns that were growing up on the frontier. People here had mostly arrived from the more 'civilized' society back east and so they were pretty easy picking for the likes of the old drifter and me.

I rode with him for three or four years. He taught me much of what I know now. How to play cards, how to shoot a gun and most of all how to come and go through one of these civilized places without attracting attention.

I had been by myself now for almost a year. The old drifter had developed a fever one night and just died on me. Of course I buried him out there in the hill country that he called home and knew that from here on out I would have to take care of myself.

I missed him something terrible at first, but soon met up with some other men who took me in. They seemed to have money to spend on fancy saddles, nice horses, and sometimes women. They drank that corn liquor a good bit too.

A couple of them took a special interest in teaching me how to improve my skills with a gun, how to be fast and accurate. At first I did not understand their kindness. Then they came back into camp one day with saddlebags full of money, but were all concerned because some sheriff was after them. They wanted me to go into town and challenge him. They told me I was sure a lot faster than he was and if I could take him out they would pay me $100.

I had never seen that kind of money before.

Like they said I had no problem. I drew against the sheriff and he fell to the ground. It was all legal like – I didn't shoot him in the back or anything. I knew how to disappear from that place so no one ever figured which way I went – or what I looked like. The old drifter's teaching served me well.

Now I knew how to earn a living. I went back to that group of men just for long enough to collect my money, then headed off one night feeling I had the world in my pocket. Surprisingly a hundred dollars didn't last very long, but after a while I found that my gun skills could earn me quite a respectable living.

So three years and several gunfights later I am riding into Dodge City. I just accepted my most profitable job ever, one thousand dollars to take down the Marshal here.

I hung around the town for several days watching my prey. That is how I viewed it. I was the hunter; my job was to kill the prey. It never worried me much that I was taking someone's life, after all no one except the old drifter ever worried about mine.

It didn't take long for me to find the Marshal. Apart from the fact that he had a brick built office with a big sign on it located right there on Front Street, you couldn't fail to notice him because of his height.

I watched him for several days. He seemed to have a small group of friends. A man with a stiff leg – he shouldn't cause much problem, an old Doctor who would cause even less. And then there was a pretty red haired saloon girl he seemed to have quite a friendship with.

I watched him break up a few saloon fights. He was quick with his fists. One night he took down three men and hauled them off to the jail with no help at all. My biggest surprise came one morning. A man got off the stage wearing a long jacket and a fancy gun belt. He let it be known that he was after the marshal. He visited several saloons, and finished up in the Long Branch. There he saw the red headed saloon girl and started talking to her. He got a little rough, wanting her to go take a walk with him. He was in the process of dragging her outside, when the tall Marshal showed up. He jerked the man around and delivered a quick uppercut to his jaw. The man fell backwards. It was what happened next that interested me. The Marshal was very concerned over the saloon girl – more than just a general interest. Then while he is talking to her, the man comes back in through the swing doors gun drawn. The girl sees him. "Matt" she yells. He turns, draws and fires killing the gunfighter. I was amazed, never seen anyone as fast as that. No wonder I had been offered $1000 for this job. I needed to figure a way I could take him down. Fair fight face to face was not going to work.

I slept well that night; I had solved many difficult challenges in my life, this was just one more, one that would be very profitable.

No one in town had really noticed me at this time. I woke early next morning and headed west. I needed to buy some supplies – but not here, not where someone might remember.

I had passed a small town about a few hours ride west of here – Cimarron – that would do.

On my way I saw a small collection of old buildings in the distance. A couple of old shacks, a barn or two, I couldn't tell from here. I rode over and take a look. Yes perfect. It looks like the remains of an old settlement set just below the rise of a rocky outcrop. No one could creep up from behind.

Now I had a good idea what I needed to do. A few purchases in Cimarron, a fancy jacket and pants, a string tie and an eye patch, a more city type hat – that should work, then I just need to buy a second horse. Not too big an investment to make $1000.

I stopped by the old buildings on the way back, changed my clothes and stashed my old ones. Then I swopped horses and continued on my way.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Deceiver**

Chapter 2

It is late afternoon; Kitty was helping Freddie stock the bar in the Long Branch. There were only a few customers at that time of day. Bill Pence, the owner, was out of town for a few days and had paid Kitty extra to help run the place. She had found that she was quite adept at handling the day to day running of the saloon and found the work preferable to the more usual ways a saloon girl had of earning a living.

A young man walked through the swing doors. He looked innocent enough, city clothes, and a patch over one eye. Not a very remarkable looking individual at all.

He sat at a table so she went over to talk to him, asking him what he wanted to drink. He seemed unsure. "Well ma'am, would you.. er .. have any brandy?" She looked at him and smiled. "We don't usually serve brandy here mister, most of these cowboys drink whisky or beer, but maybe I can find you a glass."

The man smiled to himself. He would have her eating out of his hand before the evening was done. He watched as she occasionally stopped by his table. Some other men came in and started a poker game. He watched carefully, the next time she came by to check on him he asked her about the game. Maybe she could teach him sometime. She just laughed a little. Kitty had never met a man who couldn't play poker, some played well and some badly – but they all knew how to play. Somehow his ignorance was endearing.

She sat and talked to him a while. What was his name? Where was he from? Why was he in Dodge? He had an answer for everything.

She returned to helping at the bar for a while, smiling to herself at Carl Singleton's innocence.

Two more days passed. Bader realizes that he has not seen the tall Marshal around since he returned from his trip to Cimarron. He was walking along the boardwalk around noontime and saw the young saloon girl leaving the general store. He hurried to catch her up, tipping his hat he asked, somewhat shyly, if she would let him take her to lunch at Delmonico's. She smiled and with a quiet laugh told him she would love to. He told her a little more about himself. How he served in the war, how he lost his eye. How he found his way to Dodge. She found him interesting to listen to. He was quiet and soft spoken.

"I haven't seen that Marshal fella around town for a few days," he remarked.

"Oh he'll be back tomorrow, he had to go to Wichita," she answered, without thinking anything of the question.

Next morning she was unlocking the Long Branch. Bill Pence was expected back on the early morning stage and she wanted him to see how well she had managed the place while he was gone. The young city boy came by and tipped his hat at her, "Good Morning Miss Russell."

"And to you Carl," she replied, using the name she had come to know him by, as he continued walking. Suddenly he stopped and turned. "You may think this a little forward of me Miss Russell," how many times had she told him name was Kitty, "I wondered if you would accompany me on a picnic. Maybe you could teach me something about the game of poker."

She knew that Matt wouldn't be back in town till later tonight. She had been trying to get the lawman's attention ever since she arrived in Dodge three or four months ago. The young Marshal came by the Long Branch almost everyday, he seemed to notice her, but she could never get him to stay long enough to start a real talk. She thought he was interested in getting to know her better, but then just as she got a conversation started he would remember something else he had to do, and in a flustered state he would grab his hat and bid her good day then hurry to the door. Kitty didn't want to hurt the city boy's feelings, but just maybe if Matt saw her with…. well she might just get him to stop by a little more often, show a little more interest in her.

"I would love to join you Carl, I'll even bring the cards."

He chuckled and seemed happy at the prospect.

"I'll be by about 2 o'clock," he told her and tipped his hat as he walked jauntily away.

It was late in the afternoon when Matt returned to Dodge. He left his horse at the livery and carried his trail gear along to the office.

Chester opened the door just as he was preparing to clean the trail dust from his hair and the two-day beard from his face.

"Mr. Dillon – I didn't expect to see you back till later this evening."

Matt lathers up his face and picks up his razor to hone it on the leather strop.

"I got in a hurry I guess," he said as he started to work the blade over the angles of his face.

"You ..er..planning to go to the Long Branch, Mr. Dillon," asked Chester with a little hesitation."

"I could do with a beer after 2 days on the trail."

Chester didn't want to tell him that he had seen Miss Kitty heading out of town in a buggy in the company of the city boy who wore an eye patch.

Kitty had met the young man outside the Long Branch, and they walked along to the livery where Carl had the buggy all hitched up and ready to go.

Bader had been out to the old collection of buildings he had found, the day before. He had everything ready there, including his own horse, which would be his way out. After he had earned his pay he would change clothes and character, no one would even notice him as he rode across the prairie to meet the man who was paying him to do this job. He had also left a note at the Dodge house, all nicely sealed up in an envelope, to be personally delivered to the Marshal that evening. It would be a nice surprise for the man when he got back from Wichita.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Deceiver**

Chapter 3

They rode out towards the Arkansas River. Kitty was familiar with this part of the trail, but when they were clear of Dodge he left the trail and started heading more in a southwesterly direction. She was not so familiar with this part of the prairie. Even so she was not concerned, this mild mannered little city boy could have no evil intent.

He told her he had found a little grove of cottonwood trees that would be a nice place to stop. She believed him.

After an hours drive she began to worry a little. She had to get back to town before the busy evening hours at the Long Branch.

Eventually he topped a small rise and she looked down on the tumbledown buildings below.

"Why have we come all this way Carl? This does not look like a good place at all."

He pulled a gun out from under his jacket, "It's good for what I need," he said, still maintaining his mild city boy manner, but the gun in his hand spoke differently.

"Carl, what is going on, what do you want, why bring me way out here?"

"Don't worry Miss Russell I don't plan to hurt you in any way, its that Marshal I want."

"How do you mean?"

"I need him to come out here. I need to kill him to earn my money. Good money too, a thousand dollars to kill a Marshal, can you believe that Miss Russell? "

She couldn't believe what he was saying. The evil in the words but the mild manner and tone of his voice as he spoke them did not coincide.

He had a gun in his hand as she got down from the buggy. He waved it at her, "Come on inside," he said as he waved the gun in the general direction he wanted her to go. He leaned into the buggy and lifted out the picnic basket.

"We have plenty of time, we might as well eat." The remark was so casual it sent chills down her spine.

"What are you planning to do?" she asked him.

He gave a strange laugh. "I thought I told you – I'm going to kill a marshal and earn a thousand dollars. I just need your help to do it."

"I'm not going to help you kill Matt Dillon."

He looked at her, "Oh I think you will. You have already helped me set the trap, now we just have to spring it."

He smiled that innocent smile that had made her trust him. Now it made her think he was sick in some way.

"Come along Miss Russell, please be so good as to set this picnic out for us. There is a table over there we can use." She saw an old dusty table by what once had been window, it was now half grown over with some kind of vine. Two chairs were set there across from each other. There was fried chicken, an assortment of bread and some kind of pie in the basket. To her amazement there was also a bottle of wine, quite expensive by the look of the label. It came from one of the vineyards in California, one that used a higher quality grape than the so-called mission variety produced by the Franciscan monks. She recognized the name on the label, but had never tasted any. Under different circumstances she would have enjoyed this. He must have brought it with him, no way he could have bought it in Dodge That meant he had planned this whole thing for a while now. There were also two wine glasses and a small device to remove the cork.

The basket contained a checkered cloth which she placed over the dusty table, napkins and everything needed for a very civilized picnic where right there. She was becoming more frightened by the minute, seriously worried about this man's sanity, no telling what was in store for her – or Matt. All she could do was to play along with him and keep him happy for now. Maybe some opportunity to escape would present itself.

Carl set about uncorking the wine, he seemed to be quite knowledgeable on the subject, explaining things she already knew about the grape it was made from, where the grape was grown even the name of the vineyard that produced it. He set the bottle aside for a while and asked her to arrange the plates, cutlery and food on the table. All the while he chatted away in a friendly tone, just like any good host.

He still had the gun in his right hand, but using his left he pulled one of the chairs out for her and invited her to sit down. He sat opposite, placing the gun on the table beside him. He kept his hand close to it, passing her the chicken, the bread and other accompaniments with his left. Finally he poured the wine, but she noticed that before he did so, he moved the gun well out of her reach. He even raised a glass to propose a toast. "To a successful conclusion to my most profitable job yet."

She was reluctant to drink to that, but looking into his eyes she saw that objecting would cause trouble. Obediently she lifted her glass and without saying anything drank.

After they had eaten he sat there and talked about himself, how he grew up in Philadelphia, how he travelled through the big cities of Europe in his early years. How he had been to California and seen the ocean. Kitty listened, she had no choice, but did not think any of it was true. It was like he had read it in books, or was retelling someone else's story.

It was beginning to get dark now, especially inside this dilapidated building. It was also cold. Soon they would be missing her at the Long Branch.

"Now good lady, I will give you the opportunity to excuse yourself before it gets dark outside. He took her to what would be the back door if a door still hung there and pointed to a small group of scrubby bushes. She got his meaning, not sure why he is doing this. She headed off in that general direction, looking around for any faint hope of escape.

"Don't take too long now," he called out after her.

He stood right there with the gun in his hand, there was nothing she could do. There was nowhere to run or hide.

Once back inside she saw that he had arranged one of the chairs so its back was against an old iron bed.

"I want you to sit here," he said. "I promise that I have no dishonorable intentions, but I am going to have to tie you up. Just sit down there, and cooperate and no harm will come to you. You have that on my word as a gentleman."

Did a crazy man's word count for anything? She didn't know, but the look in his eyes made her not want to find out. She hated to give up her freedom, and started to object.

"Miss Russell I do not like to strike a woman, but if you don't comply I will have to resort to violence. Don't make me do that." There was a halfway sincerity in his eyes.

This man was so many different personalities all in one skin. She believed he would strike her and maybe worse if she did not obey, but at the same time knew that he did not want to harm her, unless of course she caused him to fail in his mission. She didn't want Matt to be killed – especially from an ambush like this with her as the bait. She had seen the tall marshal in action several times in the months since she had arrived in Dodge. He was always very confident in his actions and seemed to have a sixth sense about danger – otherwise how could he have survived the gunfighters and drunken cowboys, the card sharks and the bank robbers that she had already seen him stand up to, and come through it all unscathed.

She rationalized to herself that he could handle this; he would not fall into so obvious a trap.

With some trepidation she sat in the chair, he bound her hands and feet, and then passed the rope around her body so that she was fixed to the chair. Next he secured the back of the chair to the old bed so she could not wriggle and move it around.

He went over to the small table where they ate their 'picnic lunch' and lit a lamp that he had set there. He turns it low, but leaves it near and to one side of the door.

'That will work beautifully," he told her. "The Marshal will show up nicely in that doorway now, I will have a clear shot. He will be able to see you too, which will distract him for a fraction of a second. It will give me the edge I need, I promise you it will be quick, he will not suffer – just one shot. I have done it many times before."

There was silence as he walked back and forth getting the angles right between the lamp, the doorway and the place where he proposed to hide and wait. Satisfied he came back to her.

"I must apologize for this, but I have to blindfold you," he told her – seeming genuinely embarrassed by the idea. Even so, he tied and old bandana around her eyes. The light, low as it was, was now blocked out for her.

Then he takes her face in his hands. She stiffened wondering what was to come.

"Just one kiss Miss Russell, would you believe I have never kissed a woman before. That is all I need." She feels his breath come down on her as a very chaste kiss is planted upon her lips.

"Not much to that was there?" He sounds quite puzzled.

" Now please open your mouth – I need to gag you, can't have you yelling out to your Marshal friend can I?"

Now here she was bound gagged and blindfolded. Except for noises of him moving around she was isolated. She hears him go outside, it sounds as if he is unhitching the buggy. She hears horses hoofs fading into the distance, he has turned the animal lose. He returns and she hears him close the door to another room. Then she is alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Deceiver**

Chapter 4

The Marshal finished shaving, combed his hair and found a clean shirt. He had been gone for about a week and while somewhere out there on the trail home, decided he was definitely missing the red headed saloon girl named Kitty. He really couldn't say what it was that drew him to her. She was definitely the prettiest woman he had ever seen in Dodge. She was smart, witty, and just a delight to be around. He had held brief conversations with her many times since she had arrived in Dodge, mostly standing at the bar enjoying a beer, but had never plucked up the courage to really talk to her. Besides, a lawman had no business getting involved with any woman – but this woman, somehow she had a hold on him that he couldn't deny. He had even gone so far as to buy her a little trinket while he was in Wichita, he just couldn't get her out of his mind

"I'll see you later Chester," he called out as he headed out the door. He walked down the boardwalk. Several people acknowledged him, glad to see him back in town.

He looked over the swing doors into the saloon, but did not see that red head anywhere. Casually he went up to the bar. Bill Pence and Freddie were working there.

"Nice to see you back Marshal, would you like a beer?" offered Pence.

"Thanks." The tall man continued to look around the crowd. "Is Kitty not here tonight?"

The saloon owner heard the disappointment in his voice. "She should be, but she never showed up this evening." He hated to tell the man that he had seen her go off with that city boy this afternoon. Maybe they were just late getting back and she would show up after a while.

The Marshal looked dejected, but put a smile on the situation. He finished the beer.

"If you see her, Bill, just tell her I'll drop by later."

He left the Long Branch and walked along the street to check on the other saloons. His fingers strayed to his pocket and found the small gift he had there. He was going to really talk to her tonight. Maybe invite her to go fishing. Why had she chosen this evening of all times to not show up?

Everything seemed to be quiet on Front Street. There was a slight chill in the air after the heat of the day. This time of year there were no drovers, just the local population and a few outsiders passing through. The town was much quieter than the spring and early summer had been.

He headed back towards the jail. A young boy approached him and bashfully handed him an envelope. "The clerk over at the Dodge house asked me to give you this Marshal."

He did not recognize the kid but gave him a coin and thanked him.

The envelope had his name on it, he put it in his pocket and continued on towards the brick building at the end of the street.

When he was seated at his desk he opened the envelope. There was a piece of quite expensive notepaper in side.

_Marshal Dillon_

_I need to see you. It is urgent. I have Miss Russell with me and she would appreciate your presence also. No harm will come to her, but you need to be here by midnight. You must be alone. I do not like to harm a woman, but if you do not show I will have to._

This is followed by a brief description of the location of the old dilapidated buildings that lie a few miles off of the trail going west out of town. He is familiar with the location and knows that he can be out therein under an hour. He was not sure what was going on, he had never handled anything like this before. He could only think of one reason why anyone should try to get him off by himself. He had no choice but to go, he could not let anything happen to Kitty – especially because someone was out to get him. The thought of her getting dragged into his problems was the very reason he could not get involved with anyone. How did this happen? He had been so careful up till now, its like someone knew how he felt, someone had read his emotions. He had told no one – not even Doc – how he felt about Kitty.

He left the note on his desk knowing Chester would find it there in the morning. Taking a rifle from the rack he headed off down to the livery to get his horse.

The man returns from freeing the horse, he did not want to leave a quick escape route for the young lady. After he had done what he came here for, he will loosen the ropes enough that she could work herself free. He had left water for her on the table; she would be all right for a day or so until somebody found her. By the time that happened Carl Singleton would have vanished.

He got his old cowboy clothes from a box in what seemed to have been an old storage room. He had the water and soap that he had left here a few days ago. The eye patch was abandoned and the dye was gone from his hair leaving it a dirty straw color. He had worn it longer and smoothed down as Carl, now after a few minutes with the scissors it was shorter and almost clipped along both sides of his head. The city clothes came off and Spence Bader the cowboy began to re appear. These were all skills the old drifter had taught him so long ago. How to change your voice, how to take on the persona of another being were all things the drifter could do with ease. He had told Spence that at one time he had been on the stage and travelled with a troupe of players but there were too many complaints of valuables vanishing from towns where they had been playing and quietly he had faded away from the group before the law caught up with him.

Now it was just a matter of time. The lawman would be here, he would kill him and then be gone. A thousand dollars would be his. Even though he felt no pain or conscience about killing, he could not shoot a man in the back. That was not an honorable thing to do neither was shooting him from hiding in an alleyway in Dodge City. That would not be a fair fight. This way the Marshal would have his pistol drawn when he entered the building, the brief distraction of seeing the saloon girl would give him the edge he needed to outdraw him.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Deceiver**

Chapter 5

Kitty heard a horse approaching. Her stomach turned over. There was nothing she could do and he was going to walk into the trap set by the mad man. Not that this man was mad, he seemed too smart to be classified that way, but there was definitely something not quite right about him.

She heard the horse stop, then the sound of footsteps. She knew by the sound that they belonged to the Marshal. She knew the sound of his spurs. She wanted to call out, to warn him, but the gag was too tight in her mouth. All she could manage was a grunting sound that wasn't loud enough to leave the room. She hardly knew this tall man, she wanted to get better acquainted with him but he always seemed distant and shy when she was around. Now he would be dead before she had that chance.

The door to the building slammed open against the wall. She heard him call out "Kitty, are you all right?" She wanted to yell to him, tell him to get back.

Then two shots rang out. She heard a thud, then someone comes over and there was a knife cutting part way through her bonds, at first she thought it might be Matt, but no, after a few seconds he left, not a word spoken.

She wanted to call out to find if the Marshal is still alive. She could be alone with a dead man. She heard the sound of Carl leaving. As the hoof beats faded into the distance she started to work again on her bonds. The one tying her left hand is certainly looser; he must have cut part way through it. No doubt that in his mind he was being honorable.

She continued to struggle, finally there was enough slack that she could wriggle her hand out. Immediately she removed the blindfold and the gag.

"Matt, Matt where are you?" no answer. No sound from anywhere. Carl must have extinguished the lamp because even without the blindfold she could see nothing.

She continued to struggle until she was exhausted. She rested for a while, until a groan from the man on the floor brought her back to reality. She called out to him, "Wake up Matt, come on, help me get loose." She saw some movement on the floor just inside the doorway, "I'm over here Matt, come on help me get loose."

Slowly, painfully he was trying to drag himself towards her. She could barely see anything, just the movement across the floor. He stopped to catch a breath.

"C'mon Matt, you can do it," She encouraged him several times. He had stopped to lie still for a minute, now she heard the groans more clearly as he got closer. His breathing was strained. Finally he was at her feet and she could see him. There was a large bloodstain over the lower part of his shirt. It was so difficult for him but he managed to get his knife from a pocket in his vest. He held it up and with her freed hand she took it. He fell back to the floor. Opening the knife was a new problem, but using a combination of teeth and left hand she managed. From there it was easy. In a matter of minutes she was free.

She knelt beside him, calling his name, touching his face, no answer.

She lit the lamp on the table. It gave a little light, not much oil left but it should be enough to last till morning

Outside, there was a chill in the air and she folded her arms around her. There were no horses in sight, that man must have turned the Marshal's horse loose before he left.

She went back inside. She had removed clothing from many men in her time, but this was different. Matt responded somewhat as she started to undo his shirt in order to take a look at the bullet wound. He stirred and realized what she was doing; he tried to pull the shirt closed again to cover himself.

"Now is not the time for modesty, Marshal. Let me see if I can help you." Slowly he relaxed back and she managed to get to the ugly bleeding wound in his left side. She knew she had to stop the bleeding. Tearing some fabric from her dress she folded it and laid it over the wound. "Here Matt press on this," she lifted his hand and placed it in position.

He flinched as she placed her hand on top of his and applied a little pressure.

"I'm sorry but we have to stop the bleeding."

"My horse…get him…ride to Dodge." He gasped between every word. She had already thought of that, but didn't have the heart to tell him his horse was gone. Maybe when it was daylight she could go look for the animal. She went over to the table where Carl had left a canteen of water, taking it back to the marshal she lifted his head, "Here try to drink a little." A couple of sips were all he could manage before falling back.

Kitty realized that the man lying there could die before she found help. How many times had she wanted to spend time with him, get to know him, to see what kind of a man was behind that badge. Now, he was here beside her but the chance may be gone, whisked away from her before it ever started.

His hand has slipped from where she had put it and blood was welling up from the wound. The fabric she had used to make the dressing was soaked. Tearing some more from her dress she made a new one. The only thing she could do is sit here and wait till dawn.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Deceiver.**

Chapter 6

It was the longest night she had ever known. She sat there holding the improvised dressing, hoping he did not die from blood loss before morning.

Occasionally he stirred, moaned and then passed out again.

She had to devise some method of holding the dressing in place while she rode into Dodge, that was if she could find the horse to take her there.

She must have dozed off for a while, when she opened her eyes the pale early dawn light was appearing. She went outside, no idea how to look for a horse out here, where would he be.

She went back inside, looking around she saw the other door off of this room. She opened it and found that it was an old storage room. It contained an old broom, a bucket, a shovel and a washstand with a bowl of dirty water. Nothing else.

Tearing more strips off of her dress and petticoats, she headed back to the man lying on the floor. He had already developed a fever.

She made one more dressing and then passed a longer piece of fabric around his chest.

"This is going to be tight Matt, I'm sorry."

She tightened it as much as she could, a weak cry escaped his lips, but she continued to work. She brought the canteen over and got him to take some more water. Not much else she could do. There were no blankets or pillows to make him more comfortable. "Hang in there Matt, I'm going for help." She touched his face, please don't die now, she thought. Why did she go off with that crazy man to start with? If Matt died it would be her fault.

Outside the light was good now and the sun was just about to rise over the horizon. It should warm up soon. She climbed the small rocky out crop behind the buildings and surveyed the landscape. At first she saw no sign of life, but then in the distance something was moving, it was Dillon's buckskin, she was sure. She saw where that crazy man had left the tack he had removed before sending the horse off. She collected the bridle and headed out to get the animal. It was a good half-mile walk before she caught up with him. Talking softly she slipped the bridle over his head and walked him back to where the saddle had been left.

It would take about an hour for her to get back to Dodge. The horse was fast and powerful, more so than any she had ever ridden. Nonetheless she urged him on to a flat out gallop, just hoping she could hang on and control him.

About twenty minutes later she saw a rider heading towards her. She slowed the buckskin to a walk. Fortunately he was very responsive and gave her no trouble. At first she was scared, hoping it was not Carl returning. Then she saw that the man had one leg pointing out to the side. Chester. She had never been so happy to see anyone.

She waved to him and watched as he spurred his horse into a canter until he pulled up beside her.

"I'm so glad to see you Chester, how did you know to come find us?"

Chester saw that she was trying to control her mixture of emotions. He tells her how he found the note left on the Marshal's desk early this morning. Briefly she tells him the situation.

"How bad is Mr. Dillon?"

"He's real bad Chester, I hope he's still alive. He needs Doc fast."

"I'll get him Miss Kitty." He wheeled his horse around and took off at a gallop, leg still sticking out at right angles. She marveled at his ability.

Kitty arrived back at the building she left not long before. She rushed inside. He was lying right where she had left him.

"Matt, hang on, Doc will be here soon."

His face is ashen and she could almost feel the heat from the fever he had developed. There was a little more water left in the canteen. She tore another strip of fabric thinking that her dress will be indecently short if Doc does not get here soon. She soaked the fabric then carefully wipes it over his face and neck.

"Kitty," he managed to say.

"Hush now, it's going to be alright Matt."

He raised his hand to the now blood soaked bandage around his chest, she could see the pain in his eyes.  
" I know it hurts," she took his hand between hers, "just lie still now, Doc will be here soon."

It seemed to take forever, but finally she heard them. Looking out the half covered window where she sat eating that strange meal just the night before, she saw Chester driving the wagon and Doc sitting next to him.

Doc was kneeling beside the Marshal. He took out his watch and checked his pulse, and then opening his bag he removed the stethoscope and put it in his ears. He listened for a long time. Kitty couldn't help but notice the frown on his face.

"Doc?" she asked.

He looked at her, swiped his mustache, and frowned.

"It's too early to say, Kitty. Lets get him back to town."

Somehow they got him into the wagon. Chester tied the Marshal's horse behind and they set off at a fast pace towards home.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Deceiver**

Chapter 7

Matt was on the examining table in Doc's office, Kitty had never seen anyone look so pale. Doc was gathering instruments he would need, he had asked her to put some water on the stove to boil. Chester had gone to get more wood for the fire.

Matt stirred a little, Kitty went over to hold his hand, she saw him open his eyes briefly, but then the moment was over and he fell back into sleep or unconsciousness – she didn't know which.

Doc brought a small table and set it next to where the Marshal lay.

"Kitty I am going to need some help here. Do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know Doc, I'll try."

"That's what I wanted to hear. I will also need Chester or Bill or one of the other men."

"Chester will be back in a minute – he went to get some more wood for the stove."

He showed her how to clean the instruments he would need by washing them in the alcohol solution and how to lay them out on the white cloth he had placed over the table.

He removed the bandage she had improvised together with most of the remnants of the Marshal's shirt. She watched as the big lawman winced and struggled with the pain.

"What can I do Doc?"

"Just get that damp cloth and wipe his face. I know this is going to hurt. I have some laudanum I can give him, but we may need to resort to ether."

He went over to the medicine cabinet and showed her the mask and how to drip the ether on it. He told her to clean the instruments as he used them, he may need them a second time. He collected some towels, bandages and other supplies from around the office. Everything had to be to hand. Once again he listened to the lawman's chest, his face continuing to show concern. He went over to the bowl of water he had prepared and washed his hands thoroughly. He told Kitty to do the same.

She watched as he took a big breath, then reached for the long probe that was first in line on his table of instruments. Kitty had watched Matt and the doctor become very close in the few months she had been in Dodge. This must be hard on the older man, knowing that the life of his friend depended on his abilities.

"Chester," he said to the other man, go wash your hands then come over here and hold him still for me."

"Yessir." Chester obeyed somewhat reluctantly.

Kitty felt her stomach rising into her throat, she had never witnessed any type of surgery before. She was scared of what might happen, this was all her fault.

Doc slowly slid the probe into the ugly wound. Carefully and slowly he searched for the bullet. It seemed like hours passed. Kitty found she was holding her breath. Matt stirred and groaned a time or two and Chester did his best to hold him still.

Try as he might, Doc can't find the bullet, it must be deeper than he thought. His patients breathing came in short sharp bursts as he moved the probe around. Finally he felt it. This would not be easy.

"Check his pulse for me Kitty," he asked her, not wanting to remove the probe until he knew exactly where that bullet lay.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel for. She fumbled with the big man's wrist, horrified at how weak and lifeless he seemed. All her fault, it kept coming back to haunt her.

"It's hard to feel Doc, a little uneven too."

He just nodded. Could he risk a little ether?

"Kitty, get that mask and the ether bottle. The stethoscope is around his neck he put it in his ears and listened. Indeed his heartbeat was a little erratic. Kitty was right.

"Just slowly now drop by drop." The man's breathing was so shallow that this could take a little longer than usual. After a minute or more it seemed that the drug had done its job. He told her that that was enough. He picked up the forceps and inserted them into the wound, struggling to lock them around that metal intruder. It took him a while to work the instrument back out. Despite the anesthetic the Marshal's body tensed as he finally completed the extraction. Now he has to clean the area and stitch the tissues back together

He looks at Kitty. She is almost as pale as the man lying on his table. Chester doesn't look much better.

"Kitty go make us some coffee, then rest up, you can use my bed in the back room there. I'll watch him for a while and call you later."

Kitty started to object – but knew that the physician could do with some coffee, so she headed off to do as he asked.

Chester started to leave too.

"Oh no, you stay here, I still need you. I can't repair all this if he's thrashing around, the ether is going to wear off in a minute, so you just stand there in case I need you."

Kitty refilled the coffee pot and set it back on the stove. As she reached into the wood box to add a couple more logs, she heard the Marshal cry out. She daren't look back to where Doc was working. Tears came to her eyes, its all her fault, was all she could think. Why did I agree to go off with him? I didn't even particularly like him, but he seemed so innocent and sweet. How could I have been so easily fooled? Another cry brings her mind back to where she was standing,

"I told you to hold him still Chester. How do you expect me to get these sutures in place?"

She looked over towards the table. Chester looked like he was about to cry also. How much had she hurt all these good people by one stupid action on her part?

The tears were rolling down her face. She tried to cover them with her hands.

She did not see Doc approach, he put his arm around her and pulled her to him.

"He's gonna be all right Kitty. He's lost a lot of blood and it's going to take a while, but he'll be fine."

Between the sobs she told him how she went off with Carl Singleton, how he fooled her, how he was planning to kill Matt Dillon because he was going to get paid a thousand dollars.

"Sounds to me like he had this planned all along. If he hadn't used you he would have found some other way to do it."

He walked her to the back room.

"You just lie down there for a while, I am going to fix something to help you sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Deceiver**

Chapter 8

His memory is blurred. There is a terrible pain in his left side. He tries to look around. Someone is sitting there beside him. Doc senses his waking, and bends over him.

"Matt. It's Doc. How are you feeling?"  
The words came from far away, barely making sense.

He looks around trying to see where he was. This place is familiar, Doc's office. Pain hits again and he closes his eyes against it. Doc was holding his wrist and then listening he feels the cold stethoscope on his chest

"Just hold still a minute, I'll get you something for the pain."

A few minutes later a glass is pressed to his lips.

"C'mon swallow this."

He tries to co-operate, the liquid was so vile tasting he gags.

"I know its bad, but you'd better get used to it, you're going to need more of this to get through the next few days."

Somehow he gets the rest of the dose down. A glass of water followed which helped some.

He fell back. Doc's hand was on his forehead now and it felt cool. Gradually the mists of the narcotic engulf his mind in cloudy oblivion.

Several days passed, days filled with fever, dressing changes and emotional challenges.

Kitty spent much of her time in Doc's office just sitting there, holding the Marshal's hand as he battled pain and fevered confusion.

Finally, early one morning the fever breaks. Matt felt someone poking at him and opened his eyes for long enough to see that Doc was checking the large dressing covering his chest. The Marshal remembered something he had bought in Wichita.

"Where are my clothes?"

"You aren't going to need them for a while Matt, you are staying right here for at least another week."  
"My vest, I need it. Something important in the pocket."

"Alright you stay quiet." Doc looked around the room, knowing that the bloody shirt had already been thrown away. There on the back of a chair he saw the garment in question.

"Here Matt," he handed it to him. The lawman struggled into a half sitting position so he could feel in the pockets. The little package was still there. He relaxed back again.

"Thanks Doc." He placed the small package under his pillow. Next time he saw the red headed saloon girl he would give it to her. He knew that he couldn't fight his feelings for her any longer.

It was late afternoon before she returned. She was bringing him some broth that she had made. Doc had said it was time for Matt to start eating something.

The examination table was empty when Kitty entered. For a moment there was panic in her mind. Then Doc saw her.

"I moved him to the back room. He'll be more comfortable there." He didn't add that it would be a little more private too. He knew these two young people needed to talk, and he was trying to give them some space.

"If you're going to be here for a while Kitty I think I will go to Delmonico's and get some lunch."

Matt was delighted to see the red headed saloon girl. He smiled. "I was hoping you'd come."

"I brought you some broth, Doc said it was time for you to eat something."

"Thanks Kitty." He was unenthusiastic about broth, but when she sat on the side of the bed his feelings changed, he'd have managed to eat anything to keep her there with him. She spread a towel across his chest, and opened the container. Spoonful by spoonful she fed him. Finally it was finished. She went to get up.

"Don't leave Kitty, I have something for you." He reached under his pillow.

"It seems a long time ago, but when I was in Wichita I saw something in a store window." He looked embarrassed as he handed the small package over. She took it with shaking hands. How can this be? She couldn't believe he had been thinking about her. She opened the small box, there was a small broach inside. A little flower dotted with deep blue stones.

"I.. I can't take it Matt." She is overcome, how could it happen like this, she had wanted this moment for so long, but now after all she had done to him?

He was horrified, humiliated. "But I thought.."

"Matt all this is my fault. It was my fault you got shot, how can I accept this. You nearly died. I could never have forgiven myself. It is beautiful but I don't deserve it. I wish I could. I really do." Tears started to run down her face, and she raised her hands to cover them.

He reached out to comfort her as best he could.  
"Kitty, let me tell you something, from the story I heard that man was hired to come here and kill me. Somehow he would have found a way to do that, whether by using you or any other means available to him. I knew and accepted those risks when I became a lawman. I don't like it but that's the way it is."

He took her hand. "I want to spend more time with you Kitty. I want to be your man, but you can see what is involved with taking me on. I really have no right to ask you. It won't be easy, we can't let people know that we are together. It would be too dangerous for you. Can you accept that? I have feelings for you that I don't understand. I know I should not let this happen, I swore to myself that I would stand alone for as long as I wore this badge, but I can't stop it."

He fell back on the pillows, his right hand held his side as he closed his eyes. A small groan escaped with his breath.

She wanted to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers. Carefully, so as to avoid his injury, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his.

"I understand Matt. Just rest now. I am your woman, I have been for a while now, I just didn't know if you felt the same way. We can face all these difficulties together and I love the broach it's beautiful, and it makes me feel so good to know that you were thinking of me. Thank you so much." She touched his lips again has he slept, then sat and held his hand, touching it to gently to her face.

Epilogue

Doc and Chester are sitting in Delmonico's waiting for Joe to bring their food. There is a young cowboy at the next table. He is eating a steak, but his ears are working overtime.

"Is Mr. Dillon going to be alright now Doc?"

"I think so, but it will be another week or more before he's back at work. That was a very serious injury."

Spence Bader finishes his steak. No one gives him a second glance. Carl Singleton has ceased to exist. It is sad that along with Carl, his thousand dollars has also vanished. But there is always another day.

End


End file.
